


this time we're not giving up, let's make it last forever

by KayCeeCruz



Series: Love's Tender Refrain [7]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-28
Updated: 2011-11-28
Packaged: 2017-10-26 15:25:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/284839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayCeeCruz/pseuds/KayCeeCruz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Excerpts of Brian and Justin's life.</p><p>This is a ten part series inspired by this meme I saw floating around. The gist of it was: put your iTunes on shuffle, and write a drabble based on each of the first ten songs that play. Don’t linger when the song is over, this is an exercise. Though this series ranges in length from drabblish to ficlet to not so ficlet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this time we're not giving up, let's make it last forever

_This time we're not giving up, let's make it last forever.  
(Hallelujah - Paramore)_

 

7.

 

When he decided it was time to return home, he thought it would have been like a blot of lightening hitting him. As if suddenly he would know and it would all fall into place. After everything he thought he could never really give up New York, so it wouldn’t have occurred to Justin that what he wanted would be to go back.

So, when his first sold out show closed, and he had celebrated with Brian and the boys in every club they could get into and very late into the morning, he was left with quite a bit of money and an endless stretch of time in front of him. The struggle to get where he was had been long and the first thought he had was of a well-deserved vacation.

Once he’d spoken to his agent, his lawyer and Ted (who was the only accountant he could trust), he packed one bag, and got on a plane back to where he started.

It was Tuesday.

Not telling a soul, he simply got a cab to the house, stepping out and staring in wonder. He could have sworn it had gotten bigger.

Opening the door, he smiled at the changes he saw around him. All the furniture they had ordered before their non-wedding was still in place. It gave him the happiest glow in his stomach to know that. There were a few new pictures up, more than likely courtesy of Emmett, who managed to record every moment of their lives he could.

He called out Brian’s name, no real hope that he would be there. He wasn’t. Justin would have known as soon as he walked in but he tried anyway. Following the echo of his voice, he walked into the den, taking a deep breath, inhaling Brian as he went along.

There was some new thought growing in his mind, inside his heart, but it was so minuscule, he didn’t notice it.

 

###

 

It was Sunday.

He found himself sitting around Debbie’s table, being regaled by Emmett’s stories of conquests and rejections. He couldn’t ignore the look that Ted exchanged with Michael, one of almost pity for their single friend, who had yet found his prince as Emmett would say. It made his own heart clench and he searched for Brian finding him across the room, smiling at his son, as he was held captive with stories about soccer games and life in Canada.

The thought of having never found Brian hurt too much.

When his gaze found Emmett’s again, he was laughing, eyes shiny and alive. Justin knew that whatever Ted and Michael believed was missing from Emmett’s life wasn’t. He grinned at that, shoveling more of Debbie’s ziti into his mouth.

Sometimes people could be so blind.

 

###

 

It was Thursday.

His body hurt from standing, hand beginning the ache it got when he was pushing it beyond its capacity. The edges of his vision blurred, the canvas sharpening into something he wasn’t sure he liked but knew he needed to do. When the ache turned into a sharp pain, he hissed and then deft fingers encircled his wrists, massaging slowly, deepening their grip in some areas, loosening and soothing tendons and old fears.

“I thought this was a vacation.”

“I got inspired.”

He felt a smile against his face and tucked his tongue into his cheek. Egotistical son of a bitch.

“What makes you think it’s you that inspired me?”

There was a soft puff of air, the disbelief of laughter in his ear and he smiled, turning his head to meet waiting lips. Hands dropping brush, gripping hair and skin, spilling colors onto splattered cloth, fumbling with clothes, flashes of skin, biting into heat, mouth licking at teeth and warmth, falling back without losing contact.

His eyes fell closed when Brian covered his body with touches, with lips and tongue, with fingers and need. Sharp intake when he felt a mouth at his cock, tongue licking the underside of shaft. Fingers flexing against the floor, hiss escaping into the air when mouth sucked and licked. Grasping at Brian’s head, he pushed in deep, moaning when he felt the contact of Brian’s throat, felt it relax and allow him more room. He couldn’t stop now, wanting more…needing more…

He fucked Brian’s mouth without restraint, pushing, digging, wanting…

Brian’s name escaping in pants, in a long release of words…

That thought inside him expanded and he knew what it was, realized it as he came in Brian’s mouth, as he felt him swallow him, lick him clean…

 

###

 

It was Friday.

Brian had come home, slamming the door to his den closed as soon as he walked in and Justin knew, from his spot in front of his canvas, that it had been a bad day. He remembered immediately, and with more than a little jolt in his heart, that Brian had been to the doctor.

His breathing became erratic and he held on to a nearby window, eyes closed. He refused to give in to the panic attack. To thoughts of nights of pain and medication. Of fear and death. Of the fact that sickness had touched them so indefinitely, leaving a mark that would never erase. Justin caressed his forehead, feeling under strands of mussed hair, finding the ridge of a scar that he wished didn’t exist.

Moving down the stairs, he eyed the closed door, taking a deep breath and venturing inside. Brian stood at the side window, shoulders rigid, back tense and when Justin fingers soothed over silk shirt, he shuddered out a breath.

“What happened?”

Justin knew him well. Knew that he was contemplating lying, or at least not telling the whole truth but when Justin’s fingers smoothed down his arms, hugging him tightly, it spilled out from his lips.

“They saw something on the test.”

Justin’s eyes closed and he leaned in, pulling Brian to him, protecting, warding off whatever it was.

He was here. He would stay.

They had done this before. It would be easier in some way this time.

 

###

 

It was Monday.

Brian had wanted to go alone but when Justin had stared at him blankly for a few minutes, he knew it wasn’t going to happen.

The tests had only taken a couple of hours on Saturday and the process of waiting over the weekend was the hardest part for both of them.

Strolling into the white halls of the hospital, Justin’s fingers laced with Brian’s, taking longer strides to keep up.

They tightened in his grip when Brian’s doctor walked into the office, holding a file in his hand.

He almost threw up when the doctor told them it was just a spot on the X-ray and on further examinations it had shown as nothing more. A small blimp, no cancerous cells, no tumors. Just a spot. The machine probably hadn’t been completely clean, he said. Happened sometimes.

Brian was fine.

They sat stunned and suddenly Justin let out a hysterical bit of laughter. Brian turned to look at him, registering what this has done to him and asked the doctor for a few moments. He took Justin's face in his hands when the door closed.

“Hey. It’s okay.”

That bubble of relief burst and Justin sniffed, nodding in understanding. He knew that but --

“It’s okay.”

Justin wrapped his own arms around Brian’s neck, breathing him in…

And that thought inside him became a solid decision.

 

###

 

It was Thursday.

He called his agent and lawyer, making the necessary arrangements. They assured him all would be taken care of and he had nothing to worry about. He called Ted to let him know what was going on and after a full minute of silence, there was an almost giddy laugh from his friend.

He didn’t mention anything to Brian.

 

###

 

It was Saturday.

Ben and Michael had laid out a feast for all of them. When Justin had asked what for, they smiled at each other and then handed him a letter.

Vertigo Comics had approached Michael with an offer to publish _Rage_ if Michael and Justin agreed to it.

When Justin blinked up at them, they stuttered a bit, saying they understood that it would be hard work with Justin being away but they figured if nothing else he could be consultant.

Brian shook his head. “No fucking way you’ll find anyone else as talented.”

Justin grinned at him and then got up and hugged Michael.

He couldn’t have asked for a better sign that he was on the right path.

 

###

 

It was Wednesday.

Sitting at the diner, sketchbook in hand, fingers flying across the page, new ideas for _Rage_ , new concepts that he wanted to work on, even a possible series of his own work made in comic form poured onto the pages.

He’d been there for hours, having met Brian for lunch and deciding to stay until he knew it would be time for him to go back to the house.

When Debbie came to refill his coffee cup for what had to be the twentieth time, he threw her a huge grin, making her pause.

There was a glimmer of something in her eyes and he stopped, prepared to ask her what was wrong when she simply leaned down and kissed his forehead.

“It’s nice to have you home, Sunshine.”

Justin watched her go and wondered briefly if he should add a psychic waitress to the list of new characters that he and Michael wanted to create.

 

###

 

It was Tuesday.

“So, I thought we’d take a little road trip.”

Brian shifted in bed, face coming closer to see better in the dark and Justin could make out the surprised expression. “Road trip?”

Justin moved into Brian’s space - refusing to acknowledge the word cuddle in his own head as he did - and yawned when he spoke. “Yeah. I need to move some of the sketches and paintings I was working on in a truck. They can’t go on a plane, too much potential for damage. And I don’t trust movers.” His face snuggled into the crook of Brian’s neck, sleep starting to win.

He stifled a yawn and muttered a bit as he finished his thought. “I also want to grab some of the furniture and make sure the apartment gets closed up. I’m going to need it for when I have to go for showings and things.”

He blinked up through sleepy eyes. “Guess it didn’t win out after all, huh?”

Brian sighed a little, smile in his voice. “Guess not.”

Justin placed his head back into Brian’s warmth. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Justin smiled into skin, pressed a kiss against it and whispered back. “Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback loved and appreciated. Leave here or at [LJ](http://freakykat.livejournal.com/155405.html?mode=reply#add_comment)


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